


Time Never Mends Old Wounds

by bovaria



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:33:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5814340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bovaria/pseuds/bovaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and the reader fall in love while hunting, only for all of it to come crumbling down once Dean leaves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Never Mends Old Wounds

Dean Winchester and you didn’t have the entire world. Your lives weren’t exactly yours. Dean lived it to hunt monsters down with his dad, trail after the demon that had made a mess of the Winchester family back when Sam was barely six months old. Your life was dedicated to what little purpose you could find in the smiles and grateful words of those you saved from what lurked in the dark.

This all begin to shift when Dean and you collided. Meeting him on a hunt that John sent him on, promising he’d have back up, only to have Bobby Singer call you, it was instant attraction. You dove headfirst into those emerald pools that beckoned you to have Dean take control over you. Dean found himself being wrapped around by the way you moved your hips, the way you took shit from no one, and how’d you give him a run for his money at what he thought he was good at.

A solved case later and you were both settling down at a bar, ready to celebrate another successful hunt. Dean promised that he’d pay and you let yourself lay back and let loose. He was someone you could trust, he had shown you back when the vampire had you cornered, only for Dean to completely disregard his own personal safety and beaten down the monster.

“To the successful hunt,” you raised your shot glass, exchanging smirks with Dean.

A few rounds later and you weren’t sure if you were seeing two or three of him. You swayed to the side, only to crash against a firm, warm wall. Dean hiccupped and grinned down at you, hand stroking back stray hair that was obstructing your vision.

“I think we’ve had enough, sweetheart,” he laughed, pursing his lips to hold back a burp.

“Let’s go,” you agreed, getting on your feet and grabbing his hand. Your fingers intertwined of their own accord and after what seemed like ages, you were both stumbling into the motel room. Dean had rented out another room, but you waved his goodbye away and asked him to stay. You always preferred him close to you anyway.

The next morning, you woke up tangled together. Dean’s breath fanned out against the nape of your neck as you had locked an ankle under his calf. You were a mess of limbs, but it was oddly comfortable.

As you made to pull away, Dean groaned in protest and pulled you back in. This time, he accommodated you in the cocoon he had made of himself. Without really speaking, he made his intentions known as his hands wandered down your arms, sliding against the soft skin until they traveled down to your waist. Your shirt had ridden up and his touch brought goosebumps. You gasped, eyes meeting his as Dean shot you a smug grin.

In a blur, your lips had met in a hungry, scorching kiss. His tongue stroked against yours as his hands dug themselves into your torso, bringing you to straddle him as he moved to lay back on the pillows. When you pulled away to take off your top, Dean looked ravished. His lips were swollen, red. You had been sucking on them quite voraciously and you felt proud of yourself for having caused such an effect on the usually-composed Dean Winchester.

His hands glided up your legs, squeezed your thighs before digging themselves into your ass, spreading the cheeks and pressing you down onto the forming bulge in his boxers. Your moan was downright sinful, sending a wave of lust down Dean’s spine. His hips hunched up and his covered length throbbed against your clothed pussy, prompting you to shut your eyes tight.

The fucking he gave you was animalistic, full of hunger and passion, no trace of the gentle Dean you knew lurked beneath his friendly, calm exterior. His cock drove into you quickly, jackhammering against your g-spot until you were teetering off the edge of your peak. His mouth found your nipple, making quick work of it as he sucked it harshly. Upon biting down on it, you felt the last remnants of your control slip away and your orgasm overcame you.

Nail marks riddled his pectorals as you used his chest to remain upright despite the pleasure stiffening your limbs. Dean groaned loudly and drove into you a few more times before he was emptying his load into the condom. Leaning down, your lips met his in a gentle kiss, a sharp contrast to the previous harshness of your actions.

And like that, you and Dean became lovers. You traveled across the country with him, holding his hand proudly as you walked into a bar, smirking at the girls who dared ogled your boyfriend lustily. It wasn’t so different for Dean either. He had to chase men away from you quite a few times, which only ended in you being pressed against a wall in an alleyway as Dean fucked you roughly and showed you just who you belonged to.

But beneath the roughness and the outings to bars. In between the kicking ass and killing monsters, you were falling in love with Dean Winchester. You were finding your heart burst with happiness when he laughed so hard that his eyes crinkled at whatever you’d say. You’d find that it was easier for you to sleep, evade the horrific nightmares, when your head was resting on his chest. And the feelings were mutual.

Dean Winchester had never believed in soulmates, had never thought there was someone destined to be with him, until he begin to fall for you. He found that he could breathe easier around you. He didn’t have to try to be perfect, try to please those around him. He could just be goofy and himself, let you in on the fact that he enjoyed soap operas and watching corny things. That you’d just cuddle up to him and enjoy these things with him. You loved him despite it all.

It was sometimes difficult to try to have a romantic dinner when all you had were cheap motel rooms and takeout food. But Dean made do by saving up sufficient money to one day take you out on the most expensive date you had been, ending the night at a fancy hotel both of you ended up despising by the next morning. Yet neither of you complained at the silkiness of the sheets and the durability of the mattress as Dean pounded into you throughout the night, your screams barely escaping the thick walls.

It was months before you felt Dean slipping away from you. He gradually became quieter, turning towards his phone more often. Panic seemed to nerve every one of his movements as he seemed to be calling his father and not received a single call back. Whenever you tried to reach out to him, to have him release his frustrations by either talking to you or through a good, harsh fuck, he’d brush you away.

His eyes no longer met yours, they no longer crinkled at the corners since his laughter was becoming scarcer with each passing day. Whenever you’d walk through the streets with him, his hands were always shoved into his pockets. There was always a distance between the two of you now.

You tried to help, but it was like pounding your fist against a brick wall, your pleas unheard. Dean did a complete 180° turn with you. He turned cold and his words were but a few whenever he deemed your worthy of them. Your chest began to constrict whenever you’d think of facing him. You began to wander outside of the motel and avoid seeing him as much as you could.

But it was like he didn’t notice, becoming submerged into his research and his phone. On a particular stroll through a small town you were staying in, after you had seen a couple lovingly hold hands as they walked into the ice cream parlor you had been visiting, you felt that you had had enough.

Arriving to the motel in a fit of rage, you grabbed the journal Dean had been reading and tossed it on the bed. His eyes were dangerously dark when he got on his feet, jaw locking in ire.

“What the hell is going on, Dean? I can’t help if you don’t tell me,” your voice came out softer than you intended. You were going for angry and demanding, yet your emotions betrayed you, a tinge of pleading in your words.

“My dad hasn’t answered his phone, Y/N!” he screeched. “It’s been almost two weeks and nothing!”

“Well, at least let me help!”

“What can you do, huh? I don’t even know what to do,” he said, fingers pulling at his blond hair.

“I’m here for you, Dean,” you said, softer this time. Your hand reached out for his, but he pulled away, his head shaking vigorously.

“I’m gonna go look for him,” he turned on his heels and began to pack up his things.

“Dean, don’t—there has to be something I can do,” you placed a hand on his shoulder, but he was like putty, already slipping through your fingers.

“I’m going to go get Sammy in Stanford,” he straightened up and met your eyes for the first time in more than a week. “Take care, okay? I’ll call you.”

And just like that, Dean Winchester walked out of the motel room, and your life. You remained in that town for another week, in hopes that he’d call you and let you in on how he was doing. Your phone never left your side and quite often you were roused by calls from different hunters, but never Dean.

Dread settled in your heart like a heavy stone as you came to terms with the fact that he wasn’t coming back. Dean had always thought of you as a secondary option, you knew that family always came first. But no one had prepared you for the pain this realization brought. You sought out numbness in the harsh burn of alcohol down your throat, finding that it was much easier to cope with the pain when there was a spirit bottle in your fingers.

Anger and resentment replaced Dean’s spot on your bedside. You turned to men who hardly gave you what you needed and in fits of rage, you drove them away from your room as they called you names Dean would never dream of even thinking about you.

Your knife drove harder into the monsters you killed. Your hands became skilled in choking those who tried your patience. Your eyes were no longer bothered by the bloodied scenes you sometimes had to witness. It became difficult to wear your old clothes, being that you weren’t concerned to clean them after particularly bloody cases.

Yet time rolled by and the gaping wounds Dean had left behind began to scar, although quite nastily. You still carried bitterness in your chest, but it was concealed by the responsibility you felt in continuing to hunt in order to save lives. Maybe those who you saved had better luck than you.

On a hot, summer day, you made your way into an abandoned warehouse. Surveying the land, your heart lurched up your throat as you took in the car pulling up to the front of the building. You’d recognize the purr of that particular engine anywhere, and the bowlegs that emerged from it. He frowned as he looked up at the sky, and you snorted at how probable it was that he was complaining about the weather.

Another man, this one taller, clambered out of the Impala. He was broad shouldered and you gasped as you recognized the charming, boyish looks. Sam Winchester had decided to hunt after all.

Momentarily distracted by the Winchesters, you completely disregarded the fact that you had stepped forward and revealed yourself to them. Dean’s eyes settled on you and there was a moment of alarm in them before surprise overtook. Your shoulders hardened as you met his glance and you could feel bile rising up in your throat.

All this time and you were contemplating how much you’d scream at Dean once you laid eyes on him again. You’d smack him and demand an explanation as to why he was so heartless, demand he pay back every single dollar you had spent in liquor while trying to mend the broken heart he had given you. Yet as he approached you, words failed you.

“Y/N,” his voice was deeper, rougher. “Y/N, is that you?”

Without a word to him, you swiveled on your heels and ran. The last thing you wanted was to reopen old wounds, realize th

You swerved the car to the right, pulling over next to the edge of the forest. Dean’s flabbergasted face was etched to the back of your eyelids, a flurry of mixed emotions surging into your chest and making breathing harder. You knew that if you left, if you stepped away from this case, you’d have given up to him, you’d have let him win. Your fingers gripped tightly to the steering wheel, frustration pulsing through you.

* * *

_“Where are we going, Dean Winchester?” you groaned, stomping your foot on the ground as Dean dragged you along with him through thick, grimy forest._

_“You’re always saying we never truly have time to spend with each other,” Dean said, voice soft with amusement. “So, I decided to isolate us from everything. We could spend a few hours alone, really alone.”_

_The words remained stuck in your throat as Dean skidded to a stop. Your eyes temporarily focused on him, ready to glare holes into his skull, before you were beckoned by him to look forward. Breath escaped you as a vast meadow came to your focus. It was almost cliché how perfect everything looked. The breeze stroked its fingers through the grass, causing it to fold over under its touch. In the middle of it all, a sharp contrast to the soft greens and yellows painting the view, was a tent, a fire steadily burning a distance away from it._

_Dean grinned widely as he took in the surprised expression that overtook you. His arms were ready to embrace you when you decided to wrap him in one of your hugs. It was tight and intimate, the way you held him. His lips met yours in a kiss that made Dean’s stomach flip and he quickly shook his head to rid himself of the stupor that usually overcame him whenever you’d show him any sort of affection._

_“Come on, I got a lot planned for us,” he said, winking as he led you to the camp he had set up. True to his words, he kept you busy helping him prepare your dinner. He insisted that it wasn’t nearly as cheesy as you’d thought it be to feed him his entire dinner and convinced you to do so, and vice versa._

_More than once, his mouth remained on your fingers too long, tongue stroking against the tips and prompting you to gnaw on your bottom lip in order to keep yourself under control. He’d smile innocently when your cheeks would flush and you’d hastily pull away from him, wiping at your digits with a napkin Dean kept in his hands._

_As he fed you pieces of warm s’mores, Dean’s touch would stray. His calloused fingers would trace your bottom lip and pull at it, sending a pulse of lust through you. In the middle of eating the last s’more, you couldn’t resist anymore and got on your feet._

_Dean let himself be dragged by the collar of his shirt into the tent, passively lying on his back and gripping onto your hips tightly as you straddled him. You smirked down at him, noticing a smudge of chocolate on the corner of his lip as he grinned. Slowly leaning down, your tongue cleaned it up before swiping across his mouth. His lips parted automatically and you plunged inside, tasting the s’mores you had been feeding him._

_His fingers digging into your ass made you moan, resulting in the sound going straight to Dean’s length as it hardened completely. His hips jerked up, crashing against your own. You could feel your underwear dampen, desperation coursing through you. You wanted Dean inside you, badly. Your urgency caused you to scratch at his stomach as your fingers fluttered to unbutton his pants. The slight pain prompted a hiss from Dean, who quickly began to undo your own jeans._

_Within a minute, you were both down to nothing, your skin sliding against his and sweat building up. Pants and moans filled the small tent as Dean wrapped his fingers around the base of his dick, holding it up as you slid a condom down the shaft. Pumping it a few times, you winked at him as you directed him to your entrance._

_His intention was to go slow, enjoy the moment of becoming one with you. But that was far from what you wanted. Your hips slammed down and engulfed him in a single swoop. His groan vibrated through your limbs and sent you in a frenzy as you fucked yourself sloppily on his cock, angling your pelvis so that with every trip inside, the head would strike your g-spot._

_Dean’s arms wrapped around you, fingers spreading across your back to press you impossibly closer to him. His head leaned down, opened mouth seeking your breasts as he kissed a wet trail down to one of your nipples. The pleasure intensified as he sucked harshly on it, tongue flicking against the hardened nub and causing you to move your hips faster._

_It wasn’t long before you felt yourself teeter on the precipice of orgasm and with a few calculated thrusts, Dean’s cockhead on your sweet spot had you closing your eyes and raking your nails across his broad shoulders in sheer ecstasy. Dean’s hip took over, driving into you jerkily as he continued to fuck you through your peak._

_Your walls clutched tightly around him, a tight vice that had his own orgasm rippling through his body in no time. His hot seed spilled into the condom, Dean pressing his forehead against your collarbone, his breath fanning out across your breasts._

_Your chest heaved in tandem to his own as the pleasure receded, leaving sweat and tired smiles behind. Dean stroked back stray hair from your face as your grinning lips met in a loving, slow kiss. His tongue lazily explored familiar territory, swiping against your teeth and thoroughly tasting you. It was an eternity before you were pulling away from where you had been straddling Dean, collapsing next to him on the makeshift bed._

_“Y/N,” Dean’s voice broke the silence, his chin resting against your forehead. You squeezed the arm that was around his waist, signaling to him that you were listening. “I love you.”_

_Time reeled to a stop and your heart skipped a beat. Did… Did Dean Winchester just say he loved you? Your eyes widened of their own accord and you sat up, meeting his gaze._

_“What?”_

_“I love you,” he said, laughing softly. “It took me such a long time, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that I am in love with you, honey.”_

_“Dean, you never—”_

_“I know I don’t, but I love you, Y/N,” he sat to look you in the eye, hands cupping your face. “Please don’t make me suffer through this moment and not say it back,” he pouted, seeming almost childlike in his plea._

_“Sorry,” you laughed softly. “I love you, Dean.”_

_“That’s more like it,” he said, pressing his lips to yours. You fell asleep with his heartbeat thumping against your ear, his fingers stroking through your hair._

* * *

With great reluctance, you turned back to the warehouse, scowl permanent on your face as you pulled up to the dilapidated building. The Impala was still there and with a roll of your eyes, you forced yourself to ignore the thought of Dean being in the same place as you, and to just get on with your job.

Hiding behind a rusting metal structure, you surveyed the premises and found it short of two people you had expected to see. There was no furniture and the silence was eerie as it seemed to ring in your ears. Relaxing your stance, you were stepping away from your hiding place in order to investigate what little evidence had been left behind by the monster.

You didn’t hear the steps behind you, your ears betraying you as they failed to pick up the sliding of heavy feet that failed to remain incognito. It was too late by the time you were swerving around, blade in hand. The weapon clattered to the floor as claws dug into you, wrenching mercilessly until you could feel the life trickle out of you.

The pain was agonizing before you were completely numb to it. There were screams and screeches as you collapsed to the floor in a heap, nothing but cold, rigid concrete to welcome you. You smacked your lips together, coughing when you tasted iron on your tongue. Your focus was momentarily lost before a flash of blond hair and green eyes forced you to concentrate once again.

“Y/N! Y/N, don’t you dare give up on me,” Dean’s voice roared across the building. Sam pulled out the blade from the deceased monster before he was kneeling next to Dean. “Y/N, you’re going to be alright,” he shook you.

You smiled, yet there was barely any strength in you. Dean’s eyes only saw a corner of your lip twitch, but he could guess what you were trying to do by the fading twinkle in your glance.

Suddenly, all those days wasted, the scorn you had kept inside you, the unforgiving heartbreak he had caused you, it all seemed in vain. You should have gone after him. You should have fought for the one thing in your life that had been worthwhile. You should have lived your last years with Dean. You loved the man whose arms you were being cradled in, you loved him more than you loved yourself. Everything was becoming hazy, it was harder to keep a constant thought in your mind, Dean’s eye-crinkling smile that last thing you remembered before you succumbed to the abyss.

Fat tears rolled down Dean’s eyes and fell on your lifeless face. Sam slowly reached out to close your eyes as Dean sobbed out his pain into your neck. His lips unconsciously sought out your pulse, the one he loved to kiss whenever you cradled him in your arms, tongue always licking across your jawline and ending with a soft peck against your speeding pulse when his touch became intimate.

But this time around, there was no sign of life, no pulse to kiss. Dean squeezed your corpse, denying himself the truth until Sam had to wrench him away from you. Dean had lost his one true love.

 


End file.
